Courting Death
by BasketSlayer
Summary: They both had secrets, neither of them knew the true origins of the other. An impossible meeting led to an equally impossible relationship.
1. Chapter 1

The desolate landscape, the scent of death that hung in the air.

One could almost feel any kind of hope die as it entered this place.

This was Niflheim, realm of the dead, and its ruler was Hela. She had many other titles, Goddess of Death, Daughter of Loki. The list could go on for some time, but these were the most important ones…..well atleast to the majority of the world.

You see, Hela had a secret.

She sat in her throne, surrounded by the air of death and decay. Her divine form pulsating power as the realm thrummed with her presence.

Every so often a tap was heard.

In this otherwise desolate realm where only the dead reside, she was the source of any noise. If she wished for there to be silence, no one dared to speak for how could the dead disobey their Goddess.

She sat slumped over, finger rhythmically tapping away on her throne.

Every time her finger came down, the mists that gathered around her were dispersed.

For a Goddess who lumped the years together, the feeling of watching the seconds pass was _excruciating_.

Her throne room matched the entire décor of her realm, it was completely open, symbolizing that the _entirety _of what layed around her was her kingdom. There was just one thing out of place.

On a pillar, not far from where she was sitting, there was a clock.

A _mortal_ clock.

In this place where the laws were decided by _her_, there was this device to measure the time.

It was set to Midgard, more specifically, Eastern-Standard.

Her finger matched the ticking of the seconds as she stared at the annoying device.

The time reading as 5:27 PM.

Why was she so anxious as she watched the clock?

It had to do with her secret, something that not even Heimdall knew about, she had taken some extreme measures to hide everything from his all-seeing eyes. It was one of the few things she had to thank her father for, he was a God of magic and her being his daughter had picked up a few things over the years.

Like Loki's other children, she had been sent away from Asgard. While she was more Æsir in appearance than her siblings, her Grandfather still looked at her with the same disgust that he did with her older brothers. Of course he couldn't just claim her a monster like them, cast her to whatever pit that he decided that evening. No, she was instead banished to the realm of the dead to be its ruler.

She would be the first to admit that it was rather chaotic before her arrival. Frankly, if she were to just abandon her role now, things in the realms would probably fall into ruins in no time at all. Her existence had become somewhat required.

Not that such a thing mattered to the old King of Asgard. He never feared that she would _rebel_ against her position. Attack him and Asgard? That was a possibility, but she could never permanently leave the realm of the dead.

She had been made to swear an oath on her immortal name.

Had she understood what she was doing back then she would have told him to shove it where not even Heimdall could see.

She was young and naïve. Not even her father had warned her off the course, though she now understood why. Besides being a rather disappointment in parenthood, he had very little actual sway in Odin's court.

Yes, in the old man's eyes, she was successfully put out of sight and therefor out of mind.

But, like most contracts, there were loopholes.

Her job was to watch over the realm of the dead and all the responsibilities that came with it. Well, she just needed to interpret her role slightly.

As the clock finally ticked away to 5:30, she lept out of her chair, stretching her back as it usually gets a little stiff while sitting there all day.

A snap of her fingers, and her divine attire changed into a black suite of Midgard variety. And another wave of her hand, a green portal opened up as she cheerfully stepped through.

There was no time delay as she appeared on the other side. An empty building constructed and weaved out of her own magic and sustained by hundreds of wards. She walked through the front doors and onto the streets of New York.

By Midgard standards, her workday was over.

There was no rule that she had to watch over her Realm every minute of every day.

It seemed rather…. stupid on the surface. But this is what happens when you make exceedingly broad oaths. Of course, how could the Old Man ever foresee that Midgard would have something like a _standardized _workday.

He barely paid attention to this realm anymore, not since her uncles left it all those years ago. Most Asgardians still think that humans wallow around in the mud.

The thought still brought amusement to her. The fact that the lowly humans had allowed her to wiggle a bit out of the oath forced on her.

But this still wasn't the big secret she was keeping.

For that, she had to continue on a small walk, a few blocks away from her 'place of work'.

It didn't take long to come to a quaint little neighborhood. There were children playing in the streets as few cars drove down this way. Parents chatting away as their eyes darted every so often checking up on their kids. She even received a few waves and smiles as she continued on.

She finally arrived at her destination. A small stoop that led up to a red door. There was no knocking as she turned the handle and walked right inside.

A smile lit up on her face as a family figure greeted her sight.

Hela had a secret that no other gods knew about.

With all the titles she could claim, they all meant nothing as she walked through this door. Though, that wasn't entirely correct. She had one title that she held onto, one that she would fight the world to keep.

"I'm home." She declared.

The figure turned around, his smile matching her own. "Welcome home." He returned as he approached.

Warm hands wrapped around her waste with practiced ease. Her own seemed to make their way around his head as he leaned in and their lips connected.

"Mmmmm, you always know how to brighten my day." She said as she pulled back.

"Bad day at work?" He asked.

She let out a groan. "The work just wouldn't stop and it felt like I was dealing with zombies half the time."

He placed another quick kiss on her lips. "Why don't you get comfortable while I make dinner."

"You spoil me my dear husband." She replied, a genuine smile on her face.

He gave her a wink and a smile as he made his way into the kitchen, noticing the white ball of fluff running into the room.

"And theres my little bundle of fluff." Hela cooed as the small animal jumped into her hands.

"Fou~"

"Did you miss momma?"

"Fou, Fou."

"Of course, you did." She kiss the little animal's forehead and ran a finger down its back.

Hela was many things, Goddess of Death, Daughter of Loki, but she cared not for that right now.

In this particular moment, there was only Hela Ectorius, faithful wife to one Arthur Ectorius. And this is a secret she would protect with her life.

* * *

Arthur had a secret.

Granted, it wasn't a very much sought after secret, but it was a closely guarded one all the same.

He was reminded of it every time he saw his beautiful wife. Seeing Fou run up and jump into her arms so happily…atleast it didn't make him wince anymore.

He was the only one who knew of that little furball's true nature.

Arthur had many titles over the years, The Once and Future King, The King of Knights. He had many more he could continue to pile on, but they seemed so irrelevant these days.

Even his true name was something he hid, taking up his adoptive father's name as his own. Well, not his true name either. It was more a translation error of some text that made it's way through the centuries about his life.

Sir Ector had somehow become Sir Ectorius.

He very well couldn't go around calling himself Arthur Pendragon, that would just raise all kinds of eyebrows.

He often wondered how he ended up in his current circumstance, experience would dictate that he could just blame everything on Merlin and call it a day, yet even that seemed unlikely this time around.

What was he even supposed to explain to his wife?

And the novelty of having someone to call that again. A loving wife with no additional responsibilities placed on his shoulders. Frankly, he never thought he would marry again, but love often has a way of catching you off guard.

He sealed his own power long ago, there was no need for the King of Knights in this era and he didn't want to drag his wife into any magic-based shenanigans that this world had.

This world.

It took him awhile to realize that this was in fact, not his original world.

A parallel as they call it in modern terms.

He knew of magics that could achieve such a miraculous phenomenon, Merlin was many things but a uninformed teacher was not one of them.

The Second True-Magic, the Kaleidoscope. The operation and manipulation of parallel worlds.

As odd as it was, he simply didn't care anymore.

For the first time in his many years of existence, he was truly happy.

Due to the uniqueness of his _arrival_ to the world, he didn't have to want for much. Waking up in a tomb – his own – and being surrounded by all sorts of objects of worth, most of which were of the gold and jewel variety, had allowed him to live comfortably.

The former King was now a stay at home husband. He pursued his own hobbies while his wife continued her daily work at the law firm she owned.

He liked to learn more than anything. They had a whole room in their house dedicated solely to their ever-growing library.

Arthur tended to take classes at the local universities if something popped up that interested him. He also had accumulated a few degrees over the years by accident.

It was to a point where he was on a first-name basis with many professors and even accompanied the staff for drinks after work on some days.

This was his new life.

Him, the King of England, was walking into the kitchen to cook a meal for his exhausted wife and probably give her a foot rub afterwords.

Arthur was many things some good and some bad, but in this particular moment there was only Arthur Ectorius, Husband to one Hela Ectorius. He knew not of the supernatural part of this world and he did not want to drag his wife into any messes that came with his name, so this was a secret he would keep with his life.

* * *

**When the muse strikes, it strikes hard.**

**Had this thought bouncing around my head for awhile and wanted to see if it went anywhere. I like the idea of _odd_ pairings and i think it could actually work in this case.**

**This world is more like an amalgamation of both the mythology and various Marvel works. But it's mostly going to follow the Cinematic Universe. **

**This was inspired partly by the movie - Mr and Mrs Smith. I thought the idea of both hiding their 'true' selves while also being more open and honest to one another than with anyone else to be an interesting character development. **

**So the characters, Hela always seemed kinda lonely to me. Her ruling her realm all by her lonesome. And Arthur also came off similarly due to his pushing away everyone during his own reign. I felt like these two could understand one another even if they didn't share the details of their lives. **

**And yes, I added in fou, because why not? Something something, Merlin Shenanigans. **

**So anyways, leave a comment if you have any thoughts or questions. I honestly have no idea where i'm going with this story but i think i'll like the destination. Also, i'm not dropping my other story i just have been busy with moving and work, i plan on updating soon. **


	2. Chapter 2

Hela woke up at the crack of dawn, it had been her daily ritual now for a few months.

It was odd how easily something could turn into habit even after her centuries of existence. It was the same thing each morning, a familiar set of arms wrapped around her, the mental argument she would have with herself if she should get up or not.

Unfortunately, the rational part of her brain usually won out.

She carefully slipped out of her husbands embrace and made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower as she had to get 'ready' for work.

She of course could just magic up her attire and cleaned state, but this was soothing. It had been normalized into her routine, if she didn't go through this then the whole day just wouldn't feel right.

And….there was perhaps one more reason she went through this whole morning process.

She could feel the shower door open and a pair of hands wrap around her again. Those gentle hands moved all around her body, carefully caressing her with each passing.

How awkward it would be if anyone else saw how easily this man brought a blush to her face. How the gods above would laugh if they could hear the sounds he forced her to make.

Had she been less _preoccupied_ she may have mentally scoffed for allowing herself to fall so easily into his embrace.

Such thoughts often came up, years of building up her own masks. Her Goddess self often came into contradiction with the loving wife. As strange as it was, the wife always seemed to win out, especially when she stared into his eyes. That loving smile he flashed her seemed to destroy any kind of façade she currently wore.

This show of utter weakness and vulnerability, this quivering mess he turned her into every morning it was unbefitting for someone in her position, yet, she couldn't help but yearn for it.

This aspect of her was reserved for one person and one person only.

* * *

Arthur poured himself a cup of coffee. It had become his daily routine these past few months, waking up at the crack of dawn with his wife.

Surprisingly, mornings were his favorite part of the day.

Three things he loved more than life itself that he had discovered in this new world.

His wife.

A hot shower.

And a cup of coffee.

Enjoying the third after _enjoying_ the other two. Of course, he would never say that out loud, he had more tact than that. Well, maybe, he did like getting Hela all flustered, her usual stoic expression turning into a bubbling mess that she tried her best to hide it.

It was too cute.

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers briefly.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

"I feel as though you are thinking something bad."

"Ah, I think you're just imagining things." He replied, taking a sip of his coffee in an attempt to hide his smile.

"I'm sure." Her eyes saying that she didn't believe him.

"Hows your cereal." He quickly changed the subject.

"Its full of sugar and other unhealthy additives."

"And you ask me to get more every time I go to the store." He replied, his eyebrow rising questioningly. He had originally gotten it as a small joke awhile ago. And now, she would eat it a few times a week if he didn't make something for breakfast.

She huffed, taking another bite. "I never said I did not like it."

"Mmhmm, and I'm sure the little marshmallow shapes have nothing to do with it."

"I merely find them…..aesthetically pleasing."

Arthur got up, turning on the faucet in the sink to rinse out his now empty cup. "That's a round about way to say that you think they're cute."

She scowled, or atleast tried to. The small amount of red on her cheeks did a good job of making it rather unconvincing.

Hela had a weakness to cute things. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she fell in love with Fou so quickly. And of course, he would tease her when given the opportunity.

"Love you." He said, placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

"You are insufferable." She rolled her eyes. "I love you too."

A frown made its way to her lips as she glanced at the clock, it was just about time to leave. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but she didn't want to go to 'work'. Was she allowed to 'call in sick' as the mortals say?

Definitely something she needed to figure out for later, but for now she got up from her seat, placing the dishes in the sink.

"Its about that time again." She stated.

"One moment." He replied, walking towards the fridge. He opened it up to take out a brown bag, handing it over. "Your lunch."

She opened it up, peeking inside. There was a warm feeling flowing through her. _'Was this the feeling that those other women often talked about –the supposed butterflies in the stomach?'_

"You are too good to me." She said quietly, feeling his arms wrap around her again. "And you make it too hard to leave."

"You have an important job, you can't just not go." He cooed. "I'll be here when you get back."

"I'm the boss, I should get to decide if I want to go in or not." She replied with what definitely wasn't a pout. The goddess of Death does not pout.

They both knew she _had_ to go in, though for different reasons. Her because of that damn oath and he was of the understanding that the place just simply couldn't operate without her. Which was technically true, but he also thought she owned a Law firm.

"Why don't we do something special this weekend."

"Like what?" she questioned.

"Anything you want."

"Anything?" She repeated, a smirk rising up on her face, earning a hesitant nod from her husband. "And if I wished to stay in the bedroom for the weekends entirety?"

"Then you best be prepared, Mrs. Ectorius."

"Oh my, someone's feeling full of themselves." She gave him a final kiss at the threshold of the door. "We shall have to test whether you are an empty boaster or not." Taking a few steps, she turned one last time. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"I'll be waiting." He smiled.

* * *

Hela appeared in her realm, a burst of power filling the void as to welcome back it's sovereign. The neigh infinite wasteland, distance meaningless to her as she simply willed herself towards her throne.

She carefully placed her lunch at the edge, making sure not to accidentally knock it over.

Technically, she didn't require sustenance of this type…..but that didn't make the gesture any less heartwarming.

For her people, all they truly required was one of Idun's apples and they could survive for a millennium with the added benefit of preserved youth and beauty.

That didn't mean they don't get hungry though. They simply just won't starve to death.

An unpleasant thought crept up. _Eventually_ she would have to tell him. She could easily disguise herself as the years progressed, but he would eventually age and die.

He would enter her realm and become one of her _things_ as opposed to her husband.

That simply would not be acceptable.

She would have to think on how to acquire a second Apple for her beloved.

It shouldn't be too hard, she could count the number of people she called friends with one hand and have four fingers left over. Idun was the only one to earn such a title from her.

How long has it been since she'd seen her childhood friend? Would Idun still call her a friend like she did? Or was it simply another thing that Odin had stolen from her.

Her idle musings were interrupted as she felt someone enter her realm.

An uninvited guest.

She could feel him, the way he swaggered about, like he owned the place. His infuriating self-confidence, like he was in control at all times and everyone was merely pawns on his board.

"Why have you come here, _Loki_." She sneered.

"Come Daughter, is that any way to speak to your father?" His smirk ever present.

She just snorted, opting not to even acknowledge that statement with a response.

But it turned somewhat into a stare-off, the God of Mischief locking eyes with the Goddess of Death. This continued for several moments until there was a slight twitch on Loki's face.

"What is that infernal ticking?" He finally said, turning around towards the sound.

Hela's eyes widened slightly, she gathered a large amount of magic in her hand and threw it at the nearby pillar.

The obvious action did not go unnoticed by the God of Mischief, he looked at the now smoking crater and then back at his daughter. His eyebrow quirked, wondering what just happened.

He opened his mouth to speak but was hastily cut off. "Why are you here?" The Goddess reiterated her question with a bit more force as the air around them began to shiver at the pulsing of her power.

"I originally came here to acquire your help with a small mat-"

"No doubt some convoluted plan that would gain you nothing except the ire of the All Father." She interjected.

"Quite. But…. I seemed to have found something more interesting." His eyes practically twinkling.

"And pray tell, what seemingly impossible situation arose that had caused you to willingly give up on mischief making?"

"You insult me by being so obviously disingenuous, Daughter." He began to walk about, inspecting the area with a more keen eye than before. "You are hiding something." It wasn't a question, he was saying as a matter of fact.

She clenched her fists tightly. "I am hiding _a lot_ of things, Odinson, I am the Goddess of Death, the ruler of Niflheim, I have many secrets."

"So you are, yet you are acting a bit strangely." He mused.

"Strangely? To know I am acting strangely, you would first have to know how I act normally. I fail to see how an absentee father would know about how his Daughter would act." She retorted.

His smile wavered slightly before returning. "You are being very combative, Daughter."

"Perhaps I just simply do not like your company."

"Perhaps that may be the case." He conceded. "But I have one question."

"If it will get you to leave sooner, then ask." She growled.

His smirk grew wider. "What is that?" He was pointing towards the brown bag at the edge of her throne.

She looked down, mentally face palming for forgetting that. It only took a fraction of a second for her _esteemed_ father to disappear in a burst of magic.

"That damn man." She cursed, slamming her hand into the throne causing it to crack. She could practically hear his annoying laugh echo throughout the realm.

She could no longer sense him in her domain, he had left in the same manner he had entered. Though it was possible he was never here in the first place, one of his magical clones could have been sent and he merely dispersed it.

But even then, it would have still had to enter somewhere.

It was known that Loki had many secret ways to navigate the nine realms. Some of them she had managed to find and seal in her own kingdom, but there seemed to be more and more popping up every time he went for a stroll.

It was infuriating how easily he could just appear without her consent.

One thing was for sure though, if he dared to try anything towards her husband, he would only find the cold touch of death waiting for him, Odin be damned.

* * *

Arthur leaned against the door, watching his wife walk towards work.

He kept standing there for a few minutes, even as she disappeared down the street, staring blankly into the distance.

He mentally chided himself. _'I'm acting like a kid who's experiencing his first crush, God help me if Kay ever found out.'_

Perhaps he should have been more worried about her walking to work, New York wasn't exactly a beacon of righteousness. This thought popped up sometimes, but then he always felt that phantom pain in his chin.

His wife had invited him to _spar_ once, in the early days of their courting. Well, the modern people call it 'dating'.

He could still feel her kick to this day. Apparently, she was very familiar with fighting, as in she had been professionally trained.

Something to do with her heritage, she had grown up right around the border of Sweden and Finland, her family was very traditional in some aspects. She had been taught how to fight like her ancestors before her.

Without any of his _enhancements_ he genuinely had to struggle.

Was it odd that he found that attractive? It was one of the many reasons he probably fell so easily in love.

Another story to tell Kay if they ever met again. _'Yes, I married the woman who kicked my ass.'_

It was just worrier in him speaking, he knew his wife would be fine.

He stepped back inside, closing the door. A quick look around the house and it had dawned on him.

"I have nothing planned for today." He sighed.

"Fou~"

Arthur perked up as the little monster had finally showed himself. "Did you follow her to work again?"

"Fou."

"Good boy." Arthur replied. Maybe it was the real reason he didn't worry, he knew she was being protected in secret.

"Well, Agent Fou, your reward awaits you in the fridge and you know how to work the remote."

"Fou, fou." It replied, giving a mock salute as it scampered off.

He walked upstairs to the bedroom, shifting through the mail from the previous day. He pulled out a piece in particular, looking at it thoughtfully for a moment before stowing it in his pocket.

A moment later as he came downstairs, he saw Fou sitting on the couch, somehow getting inside a box of girlscout cookies and turning the T.V. on.

He didn't question it anymore.

The little furball had become obsessed with Pokémon.

"Clean up any messes before Hela comes home." He said towards the animal.

"Fou~" Without even knowing what he said, the dismissal was pretty clear with his reaction.

"Yeah, yeah, you know the rules." He put on his jacket and scarf. "You're in charge while I'm out."

He let out another sigh as the animal didn't even acknowledge him again. Arthur just chose not to pursue it and pat around his pockets, making sure he had his phone and wallet. Finally he reached under his coat, feeling the cold steel in his waistband.

A familiar dagger. He unsheathed it, a pure white blade. He put it back with a click and hid it once again. It always made him feel safer knowing it was there, even if he could barely even use it in his current state.

He stepped outside after locking the door behind him, taking out the piece of paper he stowed away previously. "Now~ where are you?"

It was a brochure, an advertisement for a new café. They would be having an opening sale on their pastries.

Arthur might have been a _little bit_ of a glutton.

Thankfully, Hela never seemed to comment on it. Though, that women could also put away her fair share of his cooking.

It wasn't his fault, it was another aspect that came with being part dragon.

Even with his core sealed away, his appetite was still monstrous for a normal human. He blamed Merlin, like with most of his problems.

And to be fair, most of his problems usually did arise from Merlin's _interference_.

Like that time he had been turned into a woman.

_Hey Arthur, Look! I made a gender changing spell~_

There happened to be an infuriatingly good reason why there had been rumors of him being _beautiful_.

Like with most of Merlin's Shenanigans, he dealt with them all the same.

_Repress, repress, repress._

In hindsight though, it was an interesting experience. Not that he ever wanted to repeat it. He could sympathize with those people who feel they had been born in the wrong body, it felt _wrong_ in a way that was just simply hard to describe.

His idle musings took him a few blocks away to the little café in question.

It wasn't a large one, nor some kind of franchise.

He was about to walk in until he spotted something…..wrong.

There was a little girl wearing an oversized hoodie, accompanied by two men, one of which was gripping her arm rather hard.

What truly drew his attention was the faint outline of a pistol in their coats.

He sighed, turning away from the café, his conscious wouldn't allow him to overlook it if someone was potentially in trouble.

He walked from the other side of the street, careful to follow but not draw attention.

It didn't take long for them to dip into nearby alley.

Arthur crept up, leaning against the corner.

"Yes, I got the product….."

"I don't fucking know what street I'm on, can't you just track my phone?"

The man seemed rather irate as he was clearly talking into his phone.

"Fine, I'll send Craig to go check. If she tries to run again I'm just going to shoot her."

Arthur then heard footsteps approaching.

He stepped away a bit, allowing the man to walk out of the alley. As soon as he cleared the corner, He reached out, placing his hand over the man's mouth, dragging him forward then finishing with a quick knee into his groin.

The man didn't even have time to scream as his head then collided with the wall.

His eyes rolled back, blood dripping from his mouth.

_'Now for the hard part'_

He turned around the alley corner, immediately locking eyes with the other man.

The suddenness would buy him a moment or two.

He could see the kidnapper reaching into his jacket with his free hand. A practiced action, it was too smooth for him to be an amateur.

Possible retired military?

Or even worse, active military.

Thoughts for later.

The barrel level with Arthur's upper torso.

He may not have his _power_ available but years of experience and instinct don't just disappear. He followed the man's line of sight, the twitching of his hand muscles as he pulled the trigger.

As the bullet left the gun, Arthur was already moving, crouching slightly and leaning to the side.

The two bullets that left the barrel had passed by him harmlessly.

There was not another opportunity to fire again as the gun fell out of his hand and his body started falling backwards.

A beautiful white knife protruding from his head, Arthur's hand extended in a throwing motion.

He didn't spare the man a second glance as his eyes fell on the little girl cowering in the corner, trying her best to hide under her jacket.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." He kneeled down next to her.

She didn't seem to acknowledge him as she didn't even move.

He carefully placed his hand on her hood and pulled it down.

Eyes widened as he now knew what he was dealing with. He had heard about _them_ before. Though mostly from theories and secondhand accounts.

He watched for a moment as her hair kept changing color, almost uncontrollably.

She turned her head up, her eyes meeting his. It seemed that her ability affected her eyes as they also turned various colors.

But something else caught his attention, the fear she showed. It was _genuine_, born from firsthand experience.

A seething anger rose up but was quickly pushed back down. She was already frightened; he didn't want her to be scared of him.

"Hello, little princess. Your knight is here to rescue you." He said quietly.

That seemed to catch her attention, he got a better look, she couldn't have been more than ten.

"The bad men won't hurt me anymore?" She asked, her words shaky.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure the bad men never hurt you again." He reassured.

She dove into him, and he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her little frame.

_'Too trusting, if I had bad intentions she would follow along without a second thought._' Though he couldn't exactly blame her, she was around ten while also going through a traumatic experience, she was probably craving any kind of intimacy right now.

"Now little Princess, whats your name?"

"…Angelica."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He replied, moving the stray strands of hair out of her face. "Now Angelica, how about we get you something sweet?"

She seemed to light up at that.

* * *

Arthur sat in the Café he came to previously, Angelica sitting next to him happily eating one of the few snacks she had picked out.

He was scrolling through his phone, looking for a specific contact before finally dialing.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey, Doctor Weissman, it's Arthur."

_"Ah, Arthur my boy, it's been too long. How have you been?"_

"It has been quite awhile, I've actually gotten married since you've last been in New York."

_"It seems my Congratulations are in order. Who is the unfortunate woman you tricked into marriage?"_

Arthur let out a chuckle. "Hela, I believe I tricked her with my charming looks and sense of humor."

_"Yes, it was inevitable that atleast one woman in the world would have bad taste."_

"Yeah yeah, I called because I have a...hypothetical question."

_"It must be a rather important hypothetical question if you deemed it necessary to call me."_

"Indeed, lets say I happened upon a mutant child-"

_"Let me stop you right there, is this a hypothetical question or a 'hypothetical question'."_

"The latter." Arthur replied as he could hear a sigh of resignation from the other end.

_"Start from the beginning."_

"Well, I came across two men kidnap-"

_"Hypothetically."_

"Yes, of course. Hypothetically I came across two men kidnapping a little girl, both of whom were carrying weapons and possibly had military experience."

_"And I assume a bystander came to the little girl's rescue."_

"That is correct."

_"And what happened to these men?"_

"well-"

_"Actually, I don't' want to know. Why did you call me, I'm not an orphanage."_

"You're the world's leading researcher on the Mutant Gene…..i figured that maybe you know about any communities that could look after her. I doubt that any government institution has the know how to deal with a mutant and I don't like the idea that those men were possibly government themselves."

_"You're still in New York, yes?"_

"I am."

_"You are lucky then, I'll text you an address, they'll be expecting your arrival_."

With that he hung up and only a few moments later his phone buzzed.

He didn't recognize the address, 1407 Graymalkin Lane.

He plugged the address into his phone, his destination was approximately two hours away by car.

"Well, Princess, how about we got on an adventure?" He asked.

"Where we going?" She questioned, a small amount of pink on her cheeks from the cupcake she was eating.

"Some place with more people like you. Somewhere you'll be safe."

"People like me?" It took a moment for that to sink in. "Can they change their colors too!?"

_'She is so adorable_.' He wiped her face with a napkin. "I'm sure there are some people who can do things like that."

Thankfully, he had a car not far away in a garage.

* * *

The ride had been relatively uneventful, Angelica had slept most of the way. The experience was probably physically and emotionally draining enough that the added sugar couldn't even keep her going.

He pulled up to a rather large mansion, completely gated.

As he approached, the gate opened up for him, not even needing to be buzzed or declare himself.

There were already a group of people waiting on the steps of the door as he pulled up.

He nodded and smile as he got out and walked over to Angelica's door. "Little Princess, we're here."

Her only response was a wide yawn, holding out her arms.

Arthur just sighed, though a small smile still on his face as he picked the girl up and held her.

The group of people led him inside to a rather large living room.

"I suppose introductions are in order, My name is Charles Xavier, I run this school for Gifted Youngsters."

"I would shake your hand, but I'm a little preoccupied at the moment. " Arthur replied, earning a small chuckle from the wheel-chair bound man. "I'm Arthur Ectorius, it's a pleasure to meet you."

He nodded, turning towards his associates. "This is Ororo Monroe, one of the professors here. And Scott Summers one of the older students."

Arthur nodded at both of them.

"Now, our mutual associate was rather light on the details, only that you were bringing a _gifted_ individual to my school." Charles stated.

"Yeah, I found her in some rather unsavory conditions, suffice to say I liberated her before coming here." Arthur replied.

"What about parents?" Scott asked.

"I had managed to get that little bit out of her earlier, she has none unfortunately."

The professor sighed. "This is one of the reasons I created this school, a haven for mutants that had nowhere else to go."

"Will she be looked after?" Arthur questioned.

The professor smiled. "I can guarantee that she will be looked after here."

Arthur kneeled down. "Little princess, meet your new caretakers."

The little girl let go, turning her head towards the others. "Can you change colors too?"

They didn't miss the obvious mutation the little girl had, her constantly changing hair color was pretty flamboyant, especially when some of them were not natural colors.

It was Ororo who knelt down next to her. "I can do something else, watch." She held out her hand and a small tornado began to form on her open palm."

Angelica's eyes widened; a small giggle escaped her lips as the older woman ushered her outside to show her some bigger uses of her powers.

As her attention was taken elsewhere, Arthur turned back towards Xavier. "About those men who tried to kidnap her…."

"Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time we've heard about something like this. We are running our own investigations, and the results are not something uninvolved parties would want to be dragged into." The professor replied.

"I see….." Arthur didn't miss the hidden message – Are you sure you want to know? "I guess…I can leave my number encase Angelica wants to contact me for any reason." The Professor nodded. "And, if anything happens to her, please contact me."

Scott quirked an eyebrow. "You seem awfully invested into someone you don't know."

Arthur was assuming that the boy was giving him a _look_, but it was hard to tell with those dense sunglasses. "Who would leave a defenseless little girl alone like that?"

"A lot of people actually, especially if they knew that the girl was a mutant."

Arthur just shrugged. "I couldn't not help the cute little princess once I saw her in trouble."

Scott just snorted. "What, are you supposed to be her knight in shining armor or something?"

A small smile rose on Arthur face. "I guess old habits die hard."

"Well, in any case, we thank you for helping her and getting her here safely." Xavier interjected. "

"Yeah, yeah. Remember to call me if _anything_ happens." Arthur replied, knowing when his welcome was a bit overstayed.

Xavier politely showed him the door as he watched the young man drive away, shutting it behind him.

"Was that necessary, Scott?" Xavier asked.

"He seemed a bit too….good to be true I guess?" The younger mutant replied. "I mean, he just happened to see her being kidnapped, rescued her and brought her here? Doesn't that seem a bit odd to you?"

"Perhaps, but I also like to think I'm a relatively good judge of character." Xavier replied.

"Did you get anything from him?" Scott questioned.

"His mind was completely shielded, if I tried anything more thorough there was no doubt I would be detected." The Professor admitted.

"And that didn't raise any red flags?"

"This isn't my first rodeo, Scott, of course I found it odd. I just simply don't like jumping to conclusions, he seemed rather genuine and from what I gleamed from young Angelica, he was telling the truth."

"Whatever, but I'm going to say 'I told you so' when it turns out he's some sort of secret plant trying to infiltrate the school." The younger mutant just threw up his hands in defeat.

"Is he gone?" A voice called out.

"Yes, the big bad stranger is gone, you can come out." Scott replied.

A loud snort was heard from the other side of the door as the origin of the voice walked in.

"I have to say, I'm a bit confused, you usually aren't against these types of meetings, Logan." Xavier stated.

The larger man clenched his fists, taking a deep breath.

"Whats wrong, old friend?" Xavier asked.

"I don't know, something about his scent was messin with my head." Logan replied.

"If I may?" Xavier questioned, as Logan nodded, kneeling down infront of the professor. He placed his hands ontop of Logan's head, delving into his mind. "How interesting."

"Whatcha find, professor." Logan asked.

He hummed for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "The best way to describe it would be that your primitive instincts were flaring up. More specifically, your fight or flight instinct."

"Wait, he was _scared_?" Scott broke out in a laugh.

Logan ignored the brat as he turned towards the professor. "What does it mean, exactly?"

"Well, I would say that our guest was more interesting than I had previously thought." Xavier mused.

* * *

Arthur managed to get back a few minutes before his wife got home. Just enough time to clean himself up, make sure no blood was on his clothes.

Getting his knife out of that man's head was a bit messy, especially since he didn't want to Angelica to see such a thing. Not to mention he was careful in covering his tracks.

He did not regret what he did, but he didn't want police to come knocking on his door.

It was only moments later that the door opened, the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor.

"I'm home."

Arthur walked out of the kitchen. "Welcome home." He replied, arms wrapping around her with the same ease they do every day. Lips pressed together as both welcomed the other after several hours.

"How was your day?" Arthur asked, after breaking the kiss.

Hela sighed. "You know, dealing with some annoying people, like always." She fell into the softness of the couch as Fou ran up and jumped into her lap. "Aww, did you miss momma."

"How about you, my husband. Did anything exciting happen during your day?"

"Eh, nothing much." Arthur replied.

"Nothing?" Hela questioned.

"Well, I suppose I visited a new café."

"Only you would consider that exciting." She let out a small giggle.

"I guess I'm just boring like that." He leaned over the couch, placing another kiss on her cheek. "Besides, you are the most exciting thing in my life, afterall."

"You flirt." She playfully slapped his shoulder.

"I'll get started on dinner." With that, his disappeared into the kitchen.

They both had secrets already, what was a few more added on?

* * *

**Author's Note.**

**As i said before, Muses strike hard.**

**I wanted to touch on their relationship dynamic a bit. From their experiences, i would say that Arthur is the more affectionate one, initiating most physical intimacy and such. One of his previous failures was not showing his love towards his wife, i think he would have realized that and tried to correct it this time around. On Hela's end, i think she would be a bit awkward in that regard, having a hard time showing her own affection due to her upbringing, yet still crave the intimacy that comes with their marriage.**

**I'll probably get this question so i'll cover it now. Why is Arthur's power sealed? Well, power begets power. He's practically a humanoid dragon, he breaths mana, if there was any kind of mystical side to this world, he would be a beacon and he didn't want to fight anymore. Also, he doesn't have Excalibur, it was returned when he died. **

**Spoiler: He'll get it back so don't worry.**

**So covering plot points, i wanted to start integrating them in the plot of the world. Hela was kinda easy, Loki showing up unanounced and being himself. Arthur was a bit harder, i didn't want him to just walk on the street and bam, theres a main character that can pull him into the plot. I guess i 'kinda' did that but less forced i suppose. And yes, Mutants are going to be a thing in this universe. I don't know what other groups i'll add, but as i said before, the Cinematic universe is the main timeline progression.**

**Anyways, if you have any questions or suggestions, leave a comment, i read them all!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hela walked through the front door, her usual dress different.

Wearing Jeans and a T-shirt. How marvelous it was for her that this was considered casual wear on Midgard.

It was the weekend, and she was allowed to stay home for its entirety. No goddess of Death was needed for the next couple of days.

It seemed common these days that she could take pleasure in the small things, the heavy burdens being diminished, accumulated stress practically disappearing after just walking through the threshold of her home.

She couldn't even remember when she started to refer to this house as her _home_.

The ruler of Niflheim, the one who watched over the dead, considered a moderately sized house in Midgard her home.

She could recall a Midgard saying – Home is where the heart is.

The one who held her heart was most certainly behind these walls.

It would still put a smile on her face, merely walking inside.

This was _hers_.

Her eyes landed on the nearby coatrack, a small blush appearing on her face as she stared at the scarf. The green scarf she had tried to knit for her dear husband.

_Tried_, because it was her first time attempting such a thing and it didn't exactly turn out well. The irrational part of her refused to use magic, telling herself that it wouldn't count, that it would be cheating.

She would be the first to acknowledge, she wasn't the most feminine.

Early in their marriage, she was a bit anxious that she had to try and act more 'like' a wife.

She tried cooking, she failed miserably.

She tried Laundry; she ruined half their clothes.

Cleaning the house…..she probably made it worse when all was said and done.

Perhaps it was just the different cultures, looking back it was a bit ridiculous. She felt like she wasn't performing her duties as a wife.

One of her final attempts was to make him a scarf when the winter months comes around.

When he looked at that awkwardly made piece of fabric, something that not even a second-hand store would take, and cherish it like it was the greatest gift in the world….

Even when not near her, that silly man would still make her feel like this.

"You get the mail, hun?" Arthur called out.

"Got it here." She replied, composing herself lest she be targeted by his relentless teasing.

He walked up behind her, peeking over her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Anything interesting?"

"Bills…..Bills…." she said, tossing them onto the nearby table. "Hmm there's something here for my work and….an invitation for you?" She asked in confusion as she eyed the rather fancy looking envelope that was made out to her husband.

"Odd." He stated, taking the envelope and tearing it open. He read over it for a moment. "Apparently I'm invited to the Stark Industries Charity Gala. They're _specifically_ requesting my presence."

"Why would I be invited?" He questioned.

"Possibly because you own a not insignificant chunk of the company." She snorted.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that, it should be about 7% right?" He replied, earning a nod from his wife. "That doesn't seem like much."

She sighed. "You really should take more of an interest in your assets."

"That's what I have you for." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Yes her, the foreigner to this world, had somehow ended up managing the finances of their home. Sometimes you can't help what you have a talent for. She was already informed on the business practices of Midgard when she went about establishing her fake company.

The ridiculous amounts of legal hoops she had to jump through and the copious amounts of magic she threw in to ensure that no one would come knocking on her door.

She was rather surprised when she found out how wealthy her husband exactly was. Not that she had much interest in material wealth when she owned an _entire_ realm. Fun Fact – Precious metals ran through her realm same as it did most others. The only real issue would be making such things legal under the Midgardian Authorities.

But, she took her job seriously. It was _her _home, so it would be running efficiently and without coming under scrutiny. That meant she became familiar with the assets her husband, and now she, owned.

Apparently, Arthur's Grandfather was something of an acquaintance of Howard Stark, he helped the man by buying some shares during the war when Howard fell onto some hard times.

"If I recall correctly, neither you nor your grandfather have taken an interest in the company meetings and deferred any votes over to Howard which would have been inherited by Tony."

"Sounds about right." He answered.

"This probably has to do with that whole debacle with Tony announcing the closing of their weapons division, the stock prices have dropped, drastically."

"You think he's doing this to reassure everyone?"

"That or the other share holders are looking to get the silent voices on their side so they can vote Tony in No confidence." She replied.

"Sounds like a lot of political maneuvering."

"Indeed." She nodded.

"….You want to go, don't you?" He asked, noticing the interest she's taken.

"…..It sounds like fun."

"Why not." He shrugged. "We haven't gone out together since out last date…..though we should probably not have a repeat of that."

"I still say we did nothing wrong." She snorted.

"Ah, I believe those kids we made cry would say differently." He retorted.

"Kids? They were hardly kids, some of them had beards, they were in college, _at least._"

"Does that make it better? All I know is now we're banned from every Paint Ball facility in the city."

"Don't go taking the moral high ground, you were just as to blame as I was. Frankly, I didn't realize how competitive you could get." She laughed.

"Y-yeah, I don't know what came over me." He said sheepishly.

"You are a terrible liar." She whispered, giving him a little poke on the forehead. "Do you think I didn't hear the words they were saying about me?

Arthur blushed a little as she gave him a quick kiss. While she wasn't weak and needed someone to come to her defense…..the feeling wasn't unwelcome.

"We're going to have to pick out some clothes, figure out transportation." He hummed, changing the subject. "So much to do."

She perked up slightly. It wasn't until she came to Midgard that she started to enjoy the idea of 'fashion'.

Here they had so much…_variety_. She _rarely_ ever wore a dress, but she could atleast find something here to match her tastes without looking out of place. Back in Asgard, if she went to a formal event, which she rarely did, she would wear her combat attire. They were a warrior culture first and foremost, armor and the likes was not out of place during parties. But for some reason the other only option was something flamboyant and frilly. She preferred something darker and more….elegant.

Obviously, something in black or green, or maybe a combination of both?

"And that's only the beginning, I don't want to get blindsided by the other share holders." She said thoughtfully. "Who are we looking to side with?"

"I say stick with Tony, I've followed a few of their non-weapon projects, if they put more effort into those, they could easily bounce back given a couple years." He replied. "And that's not even taking into consideration any golden eggs Tony has hidden away, I doubt he would make this decision without anything to back it up."

She nodded. "There will also be people wanting to jump ship, how about acquiring their shares if presented the opportunity?"

"You're really getting into this." He chuckled. "Do whatever you want."

"This is exciting." She said a clear smirk on her face. "When's the date?"

"Next weekend." He said, looking down at the card. "Seems pretty last minute."

"Everyone's probably anxious to get this going. The Stock prices are going to keep going down, the sooner either side can stabilize their interests, the less money they lose."

"Hmm, you still have the number of that woman who did your dress last time?" He asked. "What was her name – Ella…..Elise….Elene…"

"Elaine, dear. And yes, I still have her number, she did satisfy me with the work she did last time. I'll probably have to put in a rush order."

"I'll also have to get a Tux tailored…. I wonder if they can do it there as well?" He questioned.

"I suppose at worse she would have a good recommendation, don't you own a Tux though?"

"Its several years old, I want to be presentable if I'm going to be together with the most beautiful woman in the world." He stated, earning a snort from his wife.

"You are a terrible flirt, how I fell for such lines, I'll never know." She rolled her eyes, though the gentle smile on her face explained it all.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too, my husband." She returned, pressing her lips against his. "And I always will."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Short chapter, just flushing out some backstory. **

**So, to me, I always felt that Arthur would be someone who didn't care much about the 'assets' he owned. While Hela would be the exact opposite sheerly out of principal. Arthur would look at stocks in a company and be like 'okay, it doesn't affect me at all, idc' whereas Hela would look at it and _want_ them to keep appreciating in value just because they're _hers _even if they mean almost nothing to the Goddess.**

**She also struck me as someone who would want to be informed, knowing how business is conducted on Earth would be a big thing to her. Unlike her uncle thor who went bumbling about on his first trip back to modern Earth, Hela would probably figure everything out quite easily as to not look like a fool. **

**Anyways with regards to Arthur, i wanted his entrance to this world to be somewhat modern, enough to where he initially felt the culture shock but also enough to where he didn't suddenly pop up and be all 'have at thou foul beast' whenever he saw a car. So far, my canon is that he poped in before WWII, citing his Grandfather as a shield to explain his exploits in that time period. I also didn't want him randomly running into all the super important people without a reason, so don't expect Captain America to look at him and be like _'oh hey, its you'_. For the most part, he's still completely under the radar until things progress a bit further. **


	4. Chapter 4

"That's it, right step, left step then back again."

Two figures danced alone in an empty hall, the only sounds were of their steps against the tile and the barely audible music in the background.

"Good, now twirl." The man said as his female companion did a quick spin before rejoining his movements. "Excellent." He clapped, coming to a halt. The music also stopped as the two dancers took a moment. "It appears as though you have all the movements down, there was a little stumble at the end, but your partner will have his hand a bit lower so it should be less awkward."

"Thank you, Leopold, you've been a great help." Hela replied.

"It is an honor to be of service, my Goddess." He bowed.

The area around them started to shimmer out of existence, the large ballroom disappeared, and they were greeted by the sight of Niflheim's desolate landscape as Hela sat on her throne, staring at her dancing instructor.

"I mean it, you've been a wonderful instructor, is there anything you wish for a reward?"

"This old man is a hopeless romantic at heart, tell me how your evening goes with your beloved and I will consider that more than enough." He gave a small smile as his form too started to dissipate before turning into mist and joining the other souls in the layer of the realm that they inhabited.

"That man." She huffed, though she was nowhere displeased. Rather, she somewhat enjoyed his casual demeanor and his personality.

Not to mention he was quite the gossip, intentionally trying to distract her while they danced, a training exercise he called it. She was sure he just did it out of amusement though. But it was an interesting experience having someone to gossip with.

She stared into the distance as her vision penetrated a different layer of Niflheim. She rarely interfered with the area in which her souls inhabited, at least those that didn't offend her sensibilities.

It was no Valhalla, but she treated her subjects right.

She watched her dancing instructor sit down and share some drinks with his companions, smiling slightly as she waved the images away.

The goddess was happy, all seemed right in her world.

She could recall before all _this _happened.

To put a definitive timeframe on it was difficult, perhaps a century or so ago? Maybe even longer, it was hard to tell when you didn't care as the years passed by.

Before she started to make trips down to Midgard.

The goddess sometimes called in some of her subjects, or those who recently died, and had them tell her stories.

The ones that truly stood out were those from Midgard; the elves, trolls, dwarves and such were so boring. Almost always the same nonsense, some rather inflated heroic tales of their own making.

Bleh.

She enjoyed the stories those humans told her.

It was what first garnered her interest in that realm even though her race had long since walked away from it.

She was feeling rather nostalgic, her workload was oddly low this day, so she decided to take it a bit easy.

"Garm." She called out, just barely over a whisper.

A howl answered, the mists around her displaced as a large wolf emerged from the shadows of her realm.

A gigantic beast of a wolf, easily towering over anything in the vicinity.

It began to shrink as it made its way towards the lonely goddess. Its form began to settle, still rather large as its height was easily a good 8 feet high.

Hela stood up and walked towards the mighty beast, its massive head lowering down as it began to sniff her.

Unfamiliar scents filling its nose as it looked at her in confusion.

"You've been sleeping for how many years now?" She chided, gentle patting its rather large snout.

The wolf had the decency to look a little sheepish, opting to give her a quick lick. Eliciting a smile from his mistress.

"It seems the guardian of my realm is more a puppy than a wolf." She let out a small laugh.

Such a comment by any other being would have the wolf going for the throat, but to its master…..the large wolf just fell onto the ground with a large 'thump' and rolled over, staring playfully into her eyes.

She had barely enough self-control from throwing herself into the bundle of fur, opting instead to start rubbing her guardian's belly.

Yes, the wolf protector who guards the gates of the dead, was receiving belly rubs.

"Truly, I have a frightening protector at my disposal." She said dryly, though a small smile never leaving her face.

* * *

Before, Garm was the only being that even caught a glimpse of this side of her. The only being that had never forsaken her and even followed her into the depths of Niflheim. She could barely even recall when the wolf had come into her life, only remember bits and pieces of finding a scared wolf pup at the edge of a forest. Not that any blame could be placed on her for that, she was extremely young back then, even by Asgardian Standards, she was but a child.

Her eternal protector.

Willingly submitted himself to the laws of Niflheim, having his nature twisted and changed into a being of death.

He devoured the souls of the dishonorable, those filthy ones that she would happily throw into the deepest pit she could find.

Part of her wondered if this is what it would have been like if her brother had never been chained and banished.

She let out a sigh, of which did not go unnoticed by her companion. "I have much to tell you, my guardian." She whispered, stroking his head. "I have somehow ended up married while you slept."

That got a rise out of the large wolf.

Its form betrayed its intelligence. It was a fully sentient being, capable of completely understanding the words spoken to it. It didn't quite _understand_ marriage as a whole, being a wolf and all, but it understood the underlying concept.

His mistress found a mate.

The odd scents making sense now, though there were a few in particular that set him on _edge_.

One of them carried a familiar smell, almost like death but more specific. It was a flavor he'd tasted on some of the souls he'd consumed over the years, almost like the embodiment of _killing_.

How odd, but not unwelcomed.

The other perturbed him.

He recognized the origin, having had his own run-ins on their kind, as reclusive and arrogant as they were. He'd leave Niflheim every few centuries for a day or two to go hunting, something that no one seemed bothered with as technically he wasn't as quite bound to the realm as his mistress was. And she didn't mind him going out every now and then, and he also brought back some souvenirs, even if she looked rather put off but what he brought back, he knew she liked them.

Yes, he'd run into their kind before. Some fighting him, others actually speaking to him as more than just an animal, as they were both intelligent races, even if they were both apex predators and enjoyed indulging in their baser instincts.

One of his most cherished hunts was taking down one of those particularly annoying ones.

He ate well that day.

_Dragons_.

Why did his mistress smell like a dragon? As faint as it was, it was hard to mistake one of their kind.

Not that it mattered much, if his mistress found a strong mate that made her happy, then he was fine with it, even if he didn't like those flying serpents much.

Questions the wolf had, answers he didn't seek.

His mistress was smart and strong, he would inspect her chosen when he eventually is brought before him. If whatever being didn't meet his standards, he would take her mate under its paw and teach it the ways of the hunt and make it strong like him.

For now, though, he just opted to give her another lick, earning a small yelp from his mistress.

* * *

The goddess of death wiped off the drool that covered her face.

She was much happier than her expression let on. She had dearly missed her protector these past few years, or was it a decade?

She didn't quite recall when Garm went to sleep, as he tends to take long naps.

The days only starting to be counted recently.

Even though he was supposed to be the realm's foremost protector, he often was asleep. She didn't really mind all that much, he was also Intune in the realm to an extent and would immediately awake if it came under attack.

And, well, she felt like she owed it to her old companion to allow him his own time to use as he sees fit. If he wished to sleep the centuries away, she wouldn't wake him unless it was important, for the most part. She did need to keep him abreast of the worlds ever so often, so she did waken him now and then.

It was only happenstance that she felt his eyes shuttering in the shadows and called out to him.

She hummed happily as she waived her hand.

The ground trembled slightly, splitting apart before her as an object was pulled to the surface.

Garm raised his head but lowered it back down after recognizing the device.

It looked like a rather large birdbath.

The goddess weaved her magics, activating the object as the water inside turned crystal clear.

It was one of her finer creations, made a few centuries ago amid her boredom and loneliness. A scrying pool, she aptly named. She didn't have the inherit ability to pierce the veil of realms like old one-eye or Heimdall. For her to do so, required tapping into her domain of death, which went counter productive to the point of her wanting to do so to begin with. She very well didn't want to just watch people dying all the time.

She started off initially looking towards the other immortal-like realms. The trolls, elves and dwarves. Not quite as immortal as Asgardians boast about being, but extremely long-lived compared to humans.

It was one of the driving forces of her wanting to go to Midgard originally. The stories piqued her interest, actually 'seeing the sights' so to speak was what pushed her over the edge.

The other realms were so…..stagnant.

Midgard though…Midgard was always changing, so much to do, so much to see. It had completely changed every century to be almost unrecognizable.

She remembered when wood and mud constituted a living space for the mortals, now though, she saw towers that exceeded even the height of Odin's palace.

Wanting to go there, she had devised a plan several years ago, it had taken long to complete, but the magics used would have made even her father impressed.

It would have normally been impossible to teleport between Niflheim and Midgard like she had been doing without the aid of the Bifrost, but she finagled her own means to traverse the metaphysical distance.

A clever use of her domain, the thinnest part between the realms, and copious amounts of magic.

She had managed to set up a static teleport location.

Her first trip had been rather…. humbling, in a way.

The crowds of people that did not recognize her…..didn't _care_ about her. Different from the glares and calculative looks she was used to receiving. She was utterly irrelevant to the masses.

Of course, she turned heads though, even after disguising her attire. Just because those men on Asgard were afraid to approach her didn't mean she was blind to her own looks. But, having most of the opposite gender treat her like she had three heads and six eyes most of her life had not done any favors on her confidence as a woman.

It was an odd sensation the first time it happened, someone trying to 'pick her up' as the mortals called it. But she wasn't so easy as to bed the first male to show her any romantic interest.

Eventually she got closer to her modern-day routine.

Familiarizing herself with where she ended up, purchasing the plot of land that her teleport was set at. Apparently, it was an abandoned office building that was closed due to 'being haunted'. It would have been comical had it not probably been correct. The veil that separated the realms were extremely thin at that location, some roaming spirits could have accidently slipped through for a few moments before being pulled back.

Her gain.

The rest as they say, was history.

Meeting her husband not long after and the train wreck that was their first encounter.

How they even ended up dating was ridiculous, but it somehow turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to her.

Since then, she hadn't really used her scrying pool.

What need was there to spy on Midgard when she could simply go there? And she dared not point it anywhere towards Asgard, she was confidant in her creation's ability to be discreet, but not _that_ confidant.

But….she was rather bored at the moment, so old habits kicked in.

Tapping away at the water, the images in the bowl began to change.

She zeroed in on her own home.

Her faithful protector looking over her shoulder, he was somewhat curious of the other realms at times.

A familiar house came into view.

Pushing forward more, her magic was easily able to penetrate the walls.

She noticed immediately, a certain ball of fluff casually sleeping on the sofa.

"You little furball." She huffed. "You disappear for several days and make me worried, now here you are sleeping away without a care in the world. You best be prepared, when I get home, you're cute little behind is mine."

She tapped away on the thin screen of water. "Speaking of cute behinds…..where are you, my dear husband."

The images shifted until she recognized her bedroom, changing again until it focused on the connected shower.

The steam doing nothing to hide what was going on.

"oh my…." She bit her lip. "I should turn this off…it's an invasion of privacy and….." She trailed off, mumbling to herself. Garm had the sense to leave, as certain _scent_ made itself known. Sometimes having such a powerful nose wasn't a blessing, he made himself scarce without disturbing his mistress.

Atleast he got a look at his mistress's mate, he wouldn't forget his face, though he hoped to forget everything else he saw.

* * *

Arthur busily cleaned up the house after his wife had gone off to work.

He was fine keeping up with the housework since he didn't actually have a job. Not that he was unemployed due to failure to find any work. He sometimes wondered if he should find employment somewhere just to keep busy during the days.

There were plenty of things he enjoyed doing, but the thought of turning many of them into an actual job usually dissuaded him.

Sometimes hobbies stopped being enjoyable when you're forced into them.

Maybe open a bookstore or something?

He didn't need the income so it could just be something he did for fun, and it would give him an excuse to order books in bulk.

Hela had been giving him looks due to the piles that were stacking in their study.

Something about selling or getting rid of a book, even if he'd memorized it, just didn't sit well with him.

Perhaps the several decades in the 6th century had skewed his view on it. Books were a treasure, something passed down family lines. Gold couldn't buy books, more often than not. Even simple things like a cookbook would be hoarded and guarded as a family secret.

How novel it was, when he first appeared in this era, that things like public libraries existed. Not to mention that being literate was considered the norm.

Though they were quite different about a hundred years ago, they still existed in some capacity and only got better as the years went on.

It was an interesting time to find himself waking up in the modern age. The era being referred to as the roaring twenties, these days.

He spent most of his time in his homeland of Britain, refamiliarizing himself with the world.

The first time he saw a map that pictured the entirety of the world….it was humbling. How small he truly felt in the grand scheme of things.

That and having people give him odd looks when he introduced himself as Arthur Pendragon.

It was a little funny thinking back at it now.

He kind just muddled along from there, trying his best to integrate into modern society and such.

Feeling a bout of nostalgia, he finished up his housework and made his way up into the attic of their house, pulling down the ladder from the ceiling.

The amount of dust that had accumulated, a good indication of how long it had been since he'd been up there.

He owned the house well before Hela and him had married, he properly moved into it when they settled into their relationship for the long term. It had been sitting, almost vacant, for a few decades previously.

A lot of his more…sentimental possessions were stored up here.

Upon making his way up, he was immediately greeted by a familiar painting.

Carefully wiping the dust away, he noticed the few runes around the edges, preserving the canvas even after all these centuries.

"Hey, dad." He whispered, staring at the painting of his adoptive father.

It was fairly accurate, all things considered.

When he had initially awoken in this era, he was in some sort of tomb, it was obvious after a few minutes in there that it was in fact, his tomb.

Why it was filled to the brim with expensive objects, he had no idea.

Besides things like gold and jewels, there were other items of value, if more so on the sentimental side. There were a few armaments, mostly mundane but a couple mystic codes piled in.

There was of course his Dagger sitting on a pedestal in the corner.

He remembered that Dagger, supposedly a gift from his birth father that Sir Ector passed down to him. It was immaculately beautiful and extremely strong, but it wasn't until he had awoken that it had ascended.

He knew what it was, he wielded several others of its kind during his life, but this was the only one that had sublimed itself after his death.

A Noble Phantasm.

He had an almost instinctual knowledge of it's working as soon as it took it into his possession.

And there were the paintings that sat around in that odd chamber.

Many of them having familiar faces…..many of them he could bare to even look at so he hid them away in his attic.

The years that passed made it easier, but it was still hard to look at the faces of people he'd failed.

He didn't even know why he was up here, perhaps a moment of poor impulse control? A yearning to see his father again? It was hard to tell.

"Would you still look at me fondly, if you knew of everything that happened, Sir Ector?" He asked, gently setting the painting to the side.

He reached over and picked up a small metal container. Opening it up, he carefully pulled out the object inside, once again, wiping away excess dust.

A memory, one of the most precious he held, even after all these years.

It was probably the most precious object that was inside his tomb when he had awoken. He would have gladly given up even his dagger if it meant keeping this oddly carved animal.

The small stone lion his brother had carved for him when he had fallen ill while their father was out. Though, only he would probably ever know it was in fact a lion, anyone else who saw it would probably assume it was some form of mutated dog.

Speaking of mutated dogs, he was still unsure of how Fou ended up with him, just popping up randomly one day. He wasn't even sure if it was the Fou he was familiar with, it seemed to like him, maybe. It was a bit odd; it still retained its form as Cath Palug, yet its nature was closer to the Beast of Gaia.

But, after the years went on he realized that the small creature had no desire to cause wonton destruction, it seemed rather content to just experience life.

He sighed putting away the small sculpture.

Setting it near another, larger, metal container.

He looked down at the larger container. "Not going to even open that can of worms." He muttered, pushing it away.

It was his old locker from when he fought in the second world war.

That was a nightmare he didn't want to have to repeat. It was one of the reasons he had been so reclusive over the years. He'd fought and killed since he was a young lad, as somber as it was to think about, he was used to death. Some of the things he saw in that war though, that showed him the depths of human depravity.

And he gained a bit of attention he didn't want to have.

At that point in his life, he hadn't sealed his powers yet. He used them sparingly while fighting, though there were a couple of occasions where said use were rather…. spectacular.

He may have lost his temper once or twice.

A facility that was experimenting on children.

Yeah, not his brightest moment, but certain lines should never be crossed.

The war wrapped up and he didn't want to come under any additional scrutiny since resources were now more available, so he did the most sensible thing he could think of.

He moved to America.

Everything was rather chaotic in the first few months of the war ending, it was easy to quietly disappear among the ensuing mess.

And after a few more years; he, or rather his _Grandfather,_ died.

Any odd questions or what not, he could just throw at his 'Grandfather' and no one would be any wiser.

It wasn't exactly uncommon for grandchildren to look like their grandparents either.

His _fortune_ being an inheritance from his grandfather, once more, no one would ask any questions. All he had to do was feign ignorance on how his 'Grandfather' had acquired it. Frankly, it was such a resounding shield against any kind of uncomfortable questions, he was astonished.

Sitting up and patting away the dust, he took one last look around the moderately sized attic.

He was about to leave until something grabbed his attention.

A mild longing as he looked at it.

A small weapon rack in the corner, a few weapons of varying degrees. A couple swords, an axe and a spear.

He picked up one of the identical swords, a couple of runes on the flat of the blade.

Runes were probably the most wide-spread magecraft during that era. Atleast in his homeland, he didn't know about the goings on of the rest of the world. Though, he'd read some literature about some of the lore in the far east, they seemed to have a similar system in place.

The familiar weight of a sword in his hand, he'd somewhat missed this.

There was no harm in just a few practice swings, right?

Sealing everything up and making his way out to the backyard with his prize in tow.

Stepping outside, he carefully unsheathed the weapon.

The passage of the years doing nothing to wear down on the blade, but that's basically all the enchantments did, besides some form of increased durability.

Rather mundane as magic swords go, but arguably the most useful.

It was a perfect practice blade.

Closing his eyes and taking up the stance that felt so natural.

Opening them, he saw the sharp edge infront of him, and in tune with his breathing, he swung.

There was no discharge of power, no displacement of the terrain to welcome his swordsmanship, but after not having held a blade in years…..it felt good.

He just continued to swing, left, right, center. Each one done with precision and practiced ease. The thousands upon thousands of previous swings building upon one another to give his body a memory that it could have never forgotten.

How much time passed as he lost himself in these familiar motions?

An hour, two?

By the time he came to his senses, his body was drenched in sweat and his arms were aching.

Letting out a breath, he put the sword back into Its sheath and sat down on the outside bench. Picking up the phone, he checked the time only to realize just how long he'd lost.

"Hela's going to be home soon." He mumbled, taking another look at himself. "Better take a quick shower."

* * *

"Husband, I'm home." Hela called out, walking through the door. She waited a moment without a response. "I also come bearing dinner."

She was greeting with the sound of various objects falling to the ground and her husband cursing under his breath as he made his way through the house with haste.

"Hello beautiful woman who brings me food." Arthur called out.

She snorted, putting down the warm boxes on the table. "What a welcome, I'm swooning." She said dryly.

"Apologizes, my lady." He said doing an exaggerated bow before wrapping his arms around her and quickly placing his lips on hers. "Mmm, tastes like donuts." He broke the kiss. "Truly, you know the way to my heart." He stated, eyeing the bounty before him.

"Yes, if only I knew during our early days of courting that all I needed was pizza and donuts, perhaps it would have saved me much trouble." She couldn't stop herself from smiling at his antics. "By the way, why is there a sword on the table?" It was rather hard to miss the authentic looking weapon laying on the table.

"Ah…. I forgot about that, I was going through the attic and found it among my…grandfather's possessions and I was bored so I took it down."

"Boys" She said, rolling her eyes.

"Hmm, is it real?" She asked, in mild curiosity as she also partook in the glazed treat.

"Yup, pretty sharp despite being absolutely covered in dust, like most of the stuff up there."

"What's that right there." She said, pointing at the hilt.

"Hmm?" He said in confusion, only for her to reach over and grab the box of confections out of his grasp.

He narrowed his eyes, watching her grab one.

She met his gaze with overexaggerated chewing.

He reached for the sword.

She raised an eyebrow, daring him.

"I _will_ fight you." He stated.

"Well then, come at me." She replied.

"…..those are going to go straight to your hips. Truthfully, I would be doing you a service."

"Really, that's the best you can come up with? I work hard to keep this figure." She snorted. "Besides, don't men like a bit of width, at least that's what many of today's songs say."

He opened his mouth before closing it again, finally replying after a moment. "Well…..you're not wrong. But what do you mean _work hard_."

"I walk to and from work every day." She stated.

"Everyone does, this is New York, that's hardly difficult."

"And that doesn't take into account the workouts I get at home." She said quietly.

"What?"

"Oh, don't feign ignorance, it takes hard work to keep up with you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about?" He looked at her in confusion.

She looked at him, mouth slightly ajar. "I have no words…"

"Do you have weights here or something that I don't know about?"

"Am I really going to have to spell it out to you?"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"When we…" Her face started to heat up.

"You look a bit flushed, are you okay?" He asked, stepping closer, placing a hand on her forehead.

"I-I'm fine." She stuttered slightly.

"Oh, that's good, then I won't feel bad about this." He smirked, taking the last donut from the box.

"_You!"_ She yelped.

"It's so cute when you get flustered." He chuckled.

"You horrible tease!" She huffed, slapping his arm. She tossed the empty box on the table, opening one of the four pizza boxes she brought. "See if I bring home any deserts next time."

"Where did you even get them, I'm pretty sure Antonio's doesn't bake donuts along with pizza." He asked, helping himself as well.

"There was a new bakery a few stores down….they were an impulse buy." She shrugged.

"They were good, we should order from there again." He nodded, Thursdays were their takeout nights and it was also nice to find more good restaurants. Especially since they were both quit the gluttons. "How was your day, do anything interesting?"

"About the same….." She replied almost instinctually, her eyes not daring to meet her husbands as she recalled the little 'show' she got. "But someone came in that I hadn't seen for awhile."

"A friend?" Arthur asked.

"I suppose, in a way. I've known him since I was a child, and he's been my subordinate ever since."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, Hela rarely talked about her childhood, for reason's the former king could understand. She gave him the broad strokes of a neglectful family, such he didn't pry. So, it was a bit surprising she had something good to say about someone she knew as a child. "Will I get to meet him?"

"Possibly, he's a bit busy and comes and goes for the most part. I'm lucky to be able to see him even this once in the past couple years." She smiled fondly.

"Should I be jealous." He teased.

She let out a small laugh. "You have nothing to fear from Gar-" Cutting herself off from saying his full name.

"Gar?"

"Its…a nickname…short for Garfield."

"Like the cat?" Arthur asked in amusement.

Hela almost choked, trying her best to hold in the laughter. "_Exactly_ like the cat." She said with the best straight face she could. "What about you, My husband?" The goddess quickly changed the subject.

"Just did a bit of cleaning and a bit of reading. I found myself in the attic, going through my…..Grandfather's things. Nothing too exciting except finding the sword."

"May I?" She asked, eyeing the weapon.

"Sure, just be careful, it's rather sharp."

She nodded, picking up the weapon. The weight already telling her that it was more than just a modern decoration.

Carefully sliding it out from its sheath, she immediately noticed the carvings on the weapon.

Runes.

Norse Runes.

_Real Norse Runes _that were strung together in a legitimate runic sentence. It was simplistic, but a reliable string, basically making it extremely durable as it took in the ambient magic to make itself harder to break.

Even now she could barely make out a small stream of magic entering the weapon and dispersing throughout its length.

"Arthur…..do you know where your grandfather got this sword?"

"Uh…..its an heirloom, I think? Yeah, it's been in my family for centuries."

"I see." She nodded, it made sense and a little bit worry dissipated. Something like this would have easily survived the years if it were even moderately taken care of, sitting in storage or passed down a family line would have assured its continued existence. And her husband had said that his family hailed from the British Isles where the worshippers of her people often fought in the past.

She gave it a quick swing, careful not to hit anything in the dining room. The weapon presented no harm, so she just pushed aside any worry, it wasn't the first time coming into contact with a magical item that survived the centuries.

"You…..you know how to wield a sword?" Arthur asked in surprise.

"Huh?" She was a bit taken back.

"Your stance, the way you shifted your body when you swung, it basically screams of years of experience."

"How could you possible know that?" She was taken by surprise herself.

"I….learned fencing when I was younger, and I was tutored in various weapon crafts." He replied.

"I see…my _family_ also taught me various weapons." She added.

"Huh…..this is odd."

"Indeed, I did not think this would be something we had in common as it never really came up in conversation."

"What….other weapons are you familiar with?" He perked up slightly as he asked.

She too smiled a bit. "I am familiar with swords of various types, spears, axes and I'm alright with a bow." She enjoyed training with various arms, it was one of the few fond memories of her childhood.

"I'm pants with a bow, but I can at least hit a target, if only barely." He chuckled. "I'm good with a spear and best with a sword. I'm also pretty decent with knives, specifically throwing knives."

"I was always fond of throwing axes myself." She shared his laugh.

"Theres….a festival in a couple months, one of those renaissance things where people dress up like the olden days. It's only a couple miles outside of New York…do you want to go with me?" He asked.

She looked at him strangely. "Are you asking me out on a date? This hesitance isn't like you, My husband."

"Well, I didn't plan on even bringing it up until now, I didn't think it would be anything you're interested in."

"You are a silly man." Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around him, leaning in and placing her lips on his. "I would have wanted to go regardless because it's something _you_ would have wanted. But to abate your worry, it sounds quite enjoyable and I would love to go." She kissed him again, not giving him a chance to respond.

"But I assume there is a reason you brought it up all of the sudden after learning about my skill in weaponry?"

"There are some competitions, Archery, Swordsmanship, I think there was even jousting you could sign up for if you signed a waver, and…..axe throwing." He smirked.

"Well…..it appears we should make some space on the shelf for any trophies we acquire." But putting that aside for now, how are preparations for the Charity Gala this weekend?"

"Everything should be ready by tomorrow, Elaine left a message earlier that your dress is ready and she worked together with the guy who took the measurements for my Tux, so apparently we're going to be matching quite well."

"I cannot wait." She beamed, she saw the designs for her dress and well….she was quite happy with it. "Some friendly backstabbing in the political arena then some real stabbing in an actual arena later, truly you are spoiling me."

"Only the best for my wife." He chuckled.

"Only the best, huh? Is that why you say after stealing all my donuts?"

"Ah…I hoped you forgot about that, how about I make it up to you?"

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

"Well….I still have room for some more _desert_." He quickly swept her off her feet.

"You are terrible" She squeaked as he carried her out of the dining room, the only sounds left heard were muffled giggles coming from the bedroom.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Hey everyone, it's been awhile. I'm still here and alive, i've been getting some messages asking if i'm okay and i am so far, so thanks for that. I've been just been extremely busy with real life stuff so writing has taken a back seat, this hopefully somewhat makes up for it as it's two chapters in length sitting at about 6k words. I have a good amount of A sword Reaching towards Avalon finished for Chapter 2, so that should be up in the next few days. **

**So, for the chapter, some more backstory comes out. Hela being a little bit of a voyeur, Arthur still not quite over the past. Some more background building for them both, Arthur's introduction to the modern world coming to light. Some cute moments between the two as some odd things turn up that they have to muddle their own way through without giving away too much. Nothing to quite make the other suspicious on it's own but something that may add on if things escalate. **

**Hela is kinda fun to write. I consider her the type of person that isn't a prude but at the same time has trouble openly talking about things like sex so she gets embarrassed when it gets brought up so blatantly. Having been denied affection her whole life, she's rather weak to being showered in it and is easily teased. I also didn't want to write her as some weak 'damsel in distress' kind of character either, she has her own flaws and own issues she works through, but she is most certainly a strong woman. She doesn't need some knight in shining armor, but she would enjoy having one nonetheless.**

**I havn't mentioned much of Arthur yet, i feel like he's more 'known' i guess so it's easy to assume quite a bit about his personality and how he would handle things. He's more insightful and more open to showing his affection. Able to read Hela's mood easily enough to not push any boundries she isn't ready to cross. **

**Anyways, next chapter is going to be about the Charity Event and Tony Stark gets an introduction, woo plot!**

**So, any questions or concerns, as always i read all the comments. Stay safe everyone!**


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